


We All Need A Light In The Dark

by SveaShan



Category: Dorian Gray - All Media Types, Hannibal (TV), The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Angst, Even a bit of crack, Fluff, M/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9860069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SveaShan/pseuds/SveaShan
Summary: Basil Hallward is a student at Hannibal Lecter's prestigious London Art School. He is close to giving up his work more often than not, because of too much doubt - until he meets the new model for his portrait class.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elena0206](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elena0206/gifts).



Basil Hallward was tired. Not to his surprise, not really. It would surprise him though if he woke up one fine morning not feeling like a zombie feeding off of caffeine instead of human flesh though. He sighed, knowing with a frightening certainty that this would probably never happen while he was still attending this damn school. 

His teenage dream - being able to study art, his only passion, here in London. It had come true, sort of. He had been accepted at the infamous Lecter Academy of the Fine Arts, or LAFA for short, three years ago; it was the best thing that had ever happened to him up to this point in his life. 

Oh what he would give to go back in time, shake his 21 year old self by the shoulders and tell him to do something, anything else, than applying at LAFA. It’s not that he had any problems with the professors, or his fellow students. He had made friends here, even got a boyfriend for the first time; he and Henry had split after only five months though, but that didn’t matter now. 

No, the problem he had with his current situation was one he had been warned about countless of times by various relatives, mostly by his parents. What happens when you lose inspiration? What will you do if you suddenly see that there are people better at what they do than you? What if you’re not the next Van Gogh? All these things that he had ignored had one day crushed through the ceiling of his mind, and he had been unable to get rid of them ever since. Doubt was the worst thing. He felt it every day; during seemingly mindless chitchat with his friends about future jobs, or in class when he stole a glance at someone else’s work. It was a nightmare, and it didn’t look as if it was ending anytime soon. 

He let out another sigh, and tried concentrating on the pavement in front of him. These days the smallest distraction was all it took to cause him to trip on even, dry ground. The simple task of walking was especially tricky this morning, as he was trying to take a sip of coffee every now and then - a dangerous endeavour for him. 

To his relief he didn’t literally run into anyone on his way to school; he only saw Sibyl, a girl from his class on art theory. He nodded his head into her general direction for a brief moment, but didn’t bother interrupting his way to talk to her. There wouldn’t have been much to say anyway; he knew that she was deep into her current work of art for another class, and he certainly wanted to avoid talking about what he had produced or was working on at the moment. Which was close to nothing. A few half-heartedly scribbled sketches in various notebooks or even on random loose papers, but not a single piece that was worth being put into a portfolio had come out of his creative process for weeks now. 

Just before entering the school’s grounds he hesitated, even considered turning around on his heel, go home and sleep for the next ten years. But he had a class to attend - the last theoretical one on the study of portraits. It had been his favorite back when he had been a junior at the school, but the fun had faded fast once he had entered the graduate program. Nowadays it almost felt like an inconvenience he couldn’t avoid, which was actually sad. 

Deep down inside of him he hoped that one day, all his resentments against the classes he took would disappear, but he knew that this would never happen on its own. He had to contribute to his happiness, had to at least pretend to enjoy what he did. Didn’t studies show that even faking a smile can make a person actually feel happier? The same logic had to be applicable to his situation, he was sure of that.

***

The feeling of positivity he told himself he had managed to stay alive for only his first lesson, which was a seminar all about the artist Caspar David Friedrich. It was actually interesting to learn about his life, and of course his art, but Basil’s way of concentrating on what his lecturer was talking about made him slowly but surely forget his plan of trying to become happier. He couldn’t help it, and after the class he tried to channel his positivity once more, but with no real result. 

Muttering a curse under his breath he walked through one of the school’s seemingly endless corridors until reaching the room where everyone from his year could store their works in progress. The voice that told him his art wasn’t even worthy being called such had come back, urging him to just grab all his stuff and throw it into the Thames on his way home. But he resisted, going through his stack of paintings, chuckling at some, cringing hard at the next. He was looking for one sheet of paper in particular, but it wasn’t there anymore. That was impossible; no one had ever stolen from another student, it would be the rudest thing one could do, at least in the eyes of Dr. Lecter. Basil tried to remain calm and checked everything again. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice the door being opened behind him.

“What are you doing there?”

He shot his head up and could just barely suppress a scream of terror at the sudden sound of Henry’s voice.

“Fuck! You scared me, you know that? Fuck,” he replied, not choosing his words with too much care.

“Yeah, I guessed that.” A pause. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Basil exhaled sharply, and only spoke when he had calmed himself down enough to formulate a coherent sentence without any curses.

“Nothing. Just looking for something that, uh, I can put into my portfolio.”

Henry walked over to his own works, found what he needed immediately, and looked at Basil with one eyebrow raised. 

“Sure. Hey, don’t waste too much time in here, class starts in five minutes.”

Basil glanced at him suspiciously; he didn’t know since when Henry cared about whether he made it to class on time. They didn’t even have the next class together. So he just nodded, and Henry left the room. 

***

In the end, Basil had managed to get to his class without being late. He hadn’t found the picture he was looking for, and this fact continued to bug him until he was on his way home. It was only when he set foot into a pub in town that he noticed just how mentally exhausted he was. He took a seat at the bar, and ordered a whisky, no ice. The noises around him soon faded into the background, until the bartender refilling his glass was the only thing he still acknowledged. Which was why it was slightly awkward when suddenly someone next to him started talking. To him. And he didn’t notice it; that was, until the other one tapped his finger at Basil’s shoulder.

“What?” he slurred, and turned on his seat to tell the stranger to leave him alone. When he was facing him, and Basil’s vision had cleared enough to make out the general features of a face, he almost choked on the air in his lungs. He was looking directly into the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Dark blond strands of hair fell into the piercing blue eyes of a man maybe a few years younger than Basil, he couldn’t tell for sure; sharp cheekbones and full lips helped frame the face and gave it the impression as if it was carved out of marble. 

The lips of the boy started to move, but Basil just nodded, and interrupted him. 

“Where can I return you to Michelangelo?” 

A frown appeared on the other’s face, but it did no harm to its perfection. 

“Sorry?” he inquired, and Basil couldn’t believe it. Even the voice he had just heard sounded like that of an angel. He had to be dreaming; there was no other explanation.

The shock slowly faded, and he felt his common sense return step by step, together with his embarrassment.

“What? Oh, nothing, forget what I just said. Please, forget it,” he almost whined, and quickly tried to think of something witty to say. Of course nothing came to his mind.

“Uhm, okay? Hey, listen, I just wanted to tell you that these guys over there have been looking at you and, well, laughing, for almost ten minutes now. I thought you’d wanna know.”

Basil followed his gaze, and saw Henry and three of his friends, indeed looking at him, but they were fast to cease to do so once they saw that he had noticed them. He heard them laugh, and felt his cheeks burn red with anger. Back when they had been a couple, Henry had always mocked him for his inability to drink much alcohol, and apparently, he still found his fun in watching him try.

“Jerks,” he murmured, earning him a sympathetic smile from the angel next to him that completely took his breath away.

“I would ask if I could get you another drink, but I have a feeling that you’ve already had enough,” the boy said, smirking, with real care instead of pity or disgust in his voice. 

“You’re probably right.” Basil had started feeling better, but a bit of tipsiness was still there. Which is why he continued talking. “Uhm. I know that we don’t really, uh, you know. Know each other.”

“Yes?” There was that smirk again, now accompanied by a spark in these deep blue eyes. Basil swallowed, hard, resisting the sudden urge of reaching out and kissing this boy senseless. 

“Okay, fuck it. Do you wanna get out of here? Because I do.” He felt as if his soul had suddenly left his body and was now shaking its head at him. And then the fear of rejection set in, a fear he saw coming true as soon as the other one opened his mouth.

“Yes, I do actually.”

“What? Oh. Oh!” Basil shook his head in disbelief, and started laughing. At himself or at this too good to be true situation, he didn’t know. He also didn’t care.

“Something wrong?” inquired his new companion, already half standing.

“No, nothing could be wrong now. Let’s go.” 

***

There was still a bit of a haze in Basil’s mind when he slowly drifted out of sleep the next morning. Or was it noon? He couldn’t tell; all he realized was that it was way too bright to open his eyes. It took him a moment before he felt able to turn around in bed, and another until he started blinking slowly. He was alone in his bed, a fact that was both comforting but also strangely disappointing. Once he had found out where he was, he tried piecing together the events of last night. The bar, Henry and his idiot friends, and -. The boy. The boy that was still nameless. Or had he told him his name and Basil had forgotten? He groaned, and buried his face in his pillow. No name also most likely meant no number, but this thought didn’t stop him from checking the contacts in his phone. His small glimpse of hope was erased. So was his uncertainty about the time.

“FUCK!” He jumped out of bed, causing his head to spin so much that he had to sit down again. Ten minutes until his class on portraits started. The first practical one, and of course he would be late. When he had calmed down and his head felt normal enough to function on basic levels, he tried getting up once more. No breakfast, the clothes that were lying around the closest, and brushing his teeth in record time. Not the best way to start a Thursday morning, but he needed to attend this class. 

The way to school seemed longer than usual today, despite the fact that Basil had never run there so fast in his life. His head had started pounding again, and to make it even worse, the first person he saw once he had entered the building was Henry. He received an amused glance, and was just about to jog past him when the other one suddenly raised his voice.

“Hey Basil! Have fun during your class. Try not to pass out.”

Basil almost gave him the finger, but decided against it in the last second. Henry and his cryptic musings weren’t worth his time right now. So he just sighed, and made it to class only fifteen minutes late. 

He burst through the door, and looked around for a free easel. The first thing he saw was Dr. Lecter who was sitting in the back, observing his students silently. He threw Basil a judgemental look before turning his attention to the front of the room where their model was sitting on a small chair. Basil threw his bag to the floor after having found a place to sit, and only looked up again when he had prepared all of his materials. Which was a mistake; he felt as if all the air had been punched out of his body upon seeing his angel from yesterday sitting there. It took all of his willpower to stop himself from starting to either cry or laugh hysterically. This wasn’t happening, he was sure he would wake up in a moment and someone else would be there, anyone else. Or maybe he had a twin brother? But Basil knew that he was kidding himself here.

It was him, because just as he was trying to calm down as best as he could, the boy suddenly looked at him, and Basil saw it in his eyes that he recognized him. But he managed to keep a straight face, not wanting to be responsible if the artists in the room messed up their work. Basil knew that there was no going back now; he had to practise his portrait skills, and possibly show Dr. Lecter what he had done after class. So he did just that, and started sketching the other’s pose and general features of his face, a task more difficult than he had imagined. The grace and beauty the boy radiated distracted him at first, but he soon felt that his mind cleared the longer he looked at what was in front of him. 

Before he knew it the class was over and he had a sketch on the paper that looked better than anything he had produced in weeks, months even. It filled him with immense pride and happiness, the good feeling kicking out any remnants of doubt from so much time prior to this day. He was so indulged in looking at his result that he didn’t notice a figure standing next to him after most of the students had already shown off their work and left.

“Very impressive, Hallward,” Dr. Lecter said in a cool tone, and Basil was startled before he turned to look at him.

“Thank you, I appreciate you saying so.”

“Keep up good work like this and I’m sure we can expect great things from you.” The professor then nodded at him, a small smile playing on his lips, before he left.

Basil sighed, almost staring at his drawingpad lovingly, until he realized he still wasn’t alone in the studio.

“What a coincidence, isn’t it?” It was his new acquaintance, of course, and the painter looked up at him with a content smile.

“I would hesitate calling it that. Good morning, by the way.”

The other one chuckled, causing Basil’s cheeks to turn pink.

“Morning. Can I see what you have drawn?”

“Only in exchange for something from you,” he said, trying to sound as sassy as he could. “Just a small thing. Your name.”

His model laughed, and Basil couldn’t resist joining in.

“Of course. It’s Dorian, Dorian Gray.”

“Dorian,” he repeated, trying out the name. “Sounds very nice. I’m Basil, just so you know. Uhm, anyway, you can look at it now.”

With that he motioned for Dorian to come round the easel to look at the sketch.

“Woah, Basil! This is incredible. Honestly, I didn’t even know I looked like this!”

“Are you serious? But I’m glad you like it,” he replied, feeling more and more self-conscious the longer Dorian was inspecting his picture.

“I don’t like it, I absolutely love it.” He caught Basil’s eye, smiling at him encouragingly. “Oh, I almost forgot. It’s about the other night. I’m sorry I didn’t give you my number or anything. Not even my name. So yeah, sorry for that.”

Basil was quick to shake his head. “No need to apologize. I mean, I also didn’t do any of that, so it’s partly my fault. And to be honest, the state I was in yesterday night wouldn’t have allowed me to remember much anyway.”

The other started laughing again - a sound that made Basil feel a million butterflies in his stomach, and one he never wanted to forget.

“Maybe we could catch up on what you weren’t able to do yesterday right now,” Dorian suggested, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“That’s a very good idea,” Basil smirked while doing the same. “Then you can tell me the story of how you ended up here. Because as I said, I don’t think this was a coincidence.”

They quickly exchanged their numbers, and Dorian looked at him with his eyes shining brightly, a plan clearly waiting to be tried out.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

The painter laughed, and couldn’t believe that this was really happening.

“I don’t know what we’re still doing here. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, it was a lot of fun to write! The title comes from the song "Never Been In Love" by Cobra Starship feat. Icona Pop; give it a listen, it inspired this story a great deal! Also, thank you so much Elena for coming up with this idea; I hope this is kind of what you had imagined!


End file.
